


Hermione Granger and the Greasy Git

by y3llowdaisi3s



Series: Hermione Granger and the... [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-13 09:22:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1221043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/y3llowdaisi3s/pseuds/y3llowdaisi3s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Slytherin!Hermione. Follows Hermione Granger from the moment she learns she's a witch until first year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Textbook

**Author's Note:**

> Umm, the first nine chapters were written a year (or two) ago. I can't really remember. I'm going through them again and making changes, fixing things (SpaG amongst other things) and will then start adding to the story. So the notes after this was from the original writing:
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> _This here is something that I’ve been wanting to write for months and have been holding off because I’ve been focusing on festivals and what not. Well, I joined the ‘52 Weeks of Writing 2013’ challenge on the HPFC forum and decided that it was high time I wrote this thing. I’m using the prompt ‘textbook’ for Week 1. I originally had planned this out for the ‘What If Challenge’ on the same forum with the prompt Slytherin!Hermione. And when I say ‘originally had this planned’, I mean I had the backstory thought out, and that was it. I also liked the concept of “A Girl Named Hermione Granger” by blu-babe, and am sort of stealing it but changing it to be something else. With that said, this whole thing is going to be AU, but I will try to follow major points from the books._
> 
>  
> 
> _Thanks to Mab, Yeaka, and a few other people on the highstakes-ww community on LJ for helping with this. Thanks to Tygermine and Tamlane for the beta._
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>  
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> _I have the basic idea for this but don’t know where it’s fully going. However, since I’m using this for a specific challenge that requires weekly updates, expect me to get this rolling soon enough._
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>  
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> _Thanks for taking the time to read, and I hope you enjoy._

**HGatGG**

The morning of Hermione’s eleventh birthday was a very typical Wednesday morning in Bathwick. She had woken up at five - a _whole hour_ earlier than she would normally - to ensure she could have breakfast with her mum. From her bedroom window, she could see the gloomy gray sky and the damp windowsill.

Hermione closed her eyes tight and wished for the weather to remember it was her birthday, and it needed to be a nice day for it to be as wonderful as she hoped it to be. Once her wish was complete, she threw off the sheets and hopped out of bed, running down the stairs to the ground floor.

She loved her family cottage. Her mother had purchased the place right before Hermione was born and it was the only place Hermione ever lived (holidays at her grandparents did not count). It was technically a three-story home, but it was only that way because their house rest on a hill on the corner of North Lodge and North Road. The ground level was on par with the main road, but their driveway lead down the hill to their splendid garden. Hermione had many an adventure in that garden. And many of those adventures would bring her into their guest room - that never housed guests because her grandparents could be snobs, but shh, don’t tell. So the ‘guest room’ was more of Hermione’s playroom and both the young girl and her mum were okay with that. She had a wonderful adventure planned for her birthday and she couldn’t wait for the sun to come out to start it.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she jumped the last step with a flourish - more like flailing her arms in a coordinated manner - in the entrance hall. She heard the clapping coming from the open doorway of the kitchen to the right and turned to see her mother smiling at her.

“I give it a nine, but since it’s your birthday, let’s go with a ten.” She said while clapping before turning back into the kitchen.

Hermione beamed and followed her. The smell of pancakes wafted from the stove and she tried to peek behind her mum to steal a bite of her birthday breakfast.

“No you don’t,” her mother chided, lightly tapping her hands away from the countertop. “You will sit at the table and wait the three minutes it takes me to plate it.”

Hermione jokingly pouted but listened to her nonetheless. She walked around the peninsula of the kitchen into the small breakfast room. She sat herself in the middle of the banquet so that she could easily watch her mum bring her a plate of the delicious meal. 

Her mother placed a plate of pancakes drenched heavily in syrup in front of Hermione and one with little syrup in front of the seat across for herself.

Hermione shook out a napkin and placed it in her lap and waited for permission before digging into the very sweet breakfast. When her mother picked up her fork, Hermione immediately followed and began to politely stuff her mouth with the ‘one of two times a year she could eat this much sugar in the morning’ meal.

After several bites, her mother placed her fork down, laced her fingers together and rested her chin on the bridge they made. “So, as its your birthday, what are your plans?”

Hermione chewed her current bite quickly and swallowed before responding. She smiled at her mother and replied, “Well, since you said I didn’t have to go to school today, I am going to finish my studies that I will be missing.”

Her mother nodded in approval. 

“Then, if the weather permits, I’m going to have an adventure,” Hermione said before returning to her breakfast.

Her mother smiled at her daughter’s enthusiasm. She was glad that even though her daughter didn’t really have any friends to speak of, she didn’t let it bring her down. Her daughter was very much like herself when she was that age; very few friends, an overactive imagination (from all the books read), hardworking, and optimistic. And although Hermione’s father was not in the picture, she made it a point to always be there for her daughter. She would not let Hermione feel the loneliness of not having a family, not ever.

“Mum, what are your plans for today?” Hermione asked when she was nearly finished. She saw the melancholy look on her mother’s face and wanted to distract her from her sad thoughts. It wouldn’t due for her mother to be sad on her birthday.

“Oh, well, I’ll be at work of course. I don’t have to teach any classes this afternoon though so I’ll be home early to make some steak & kidney pudding for your birthday dinner. Then maybe we can watch a film or something. Whatever you want this evening, my darling birthday girl.” Her mother leaned over the table and pinched Hermione’s cheek with a teasing a smile.

Hermione scrunched up her nose at the gesture. She was eleven, she didn’t need her mum pinching her cheeks! She couldn’t help but give a shy smile though at the thought of spending the evening with her mother, though. She knew her mother worked very hard to make sure they had a good life, but on special occasions, work would be put on the backburner. Hermione felt very special and she loved her mother all the more for it. 

“Okay, mum. I’ll clean up so you can make it into work on time.” Hermione said while scooting off the bench. Her mother pinched her cheek once more and kissed her forehead before leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs to her own room.

Hermione sighed before clearing the table and brought the dishes to the sink. She started cleaning up, all the while plotting her adventure for when she finished revising.

**HGatGG**

Hermione was sitting on the floor of the living room, her legs tucked in under the coffee table that was covered in textbooks. She was in Year 6 of primary school and was excited to be entering secondary school the coming year. Her mother said that secondary school was more important so the students would be more serious in their studies. Hermione hoped this was true because she found it appalling that her current school-mates considered her weird for spending her recess in the library instead of in the schoolyard skipping rope.

She liked to ignore the other reasons her classmates thought her weird. It wasn’t her fault that the last time - just last week - Elizabeth Holden called her a ‘bushy brain’ that Elizabeth’s sleek coif resembled a poodle. Nor was it her fault when she overheard her year 5 teacher suggest “Hermione just teach the class if she’s going to try and answer every question” to one of the other teachers in the staff room, that no sound would leave the teacher’s mouth at class time making it impossible for any learning to commence.

Hermione shrugged in remembrance. Her mother said she had similar occurrences when she was younger and although the other kids in her classes and at the orphanage gave her a wide berth. She used it to her advantage and was at the top of her class. Her mother even managed to finish secondary school at sixteen, and found a decent paying job that would let her attend night courses to pursue a career. Hermione idolized her mother and believed that if she was going to have to live a similar upbringing, she would do her hardest to make her mother proud. It was only right, after everything her mother had sacrificed to ensure that Hermione had the life her mother never had. 

She was pulled from her musings by a knock at the door. Hermione glanced at the large clock that hung above the fireplace and saw that it was only half past ten. Her mother didn’t mention any visitors would be coming by and it was too early for any students to accidentally show up for the cancelled class. 

She pursed her lips and considered her options. She knew she shouldn’t open the door to strangers, or worse, a constable who might be checking to ensure she was actually sick and not just skipping school. Another knock on the door, this time three times, and louder, made Hermione really antsy. 

If she didn’t answer the door, she would never know why someone would stop by her home this early in the day. Maybe her mother had sent something home from the office? The dentist assistants always claimed Hermione was their favourite, it would make sense that they would have biscuits prepared for her birthday. They did have some last year, but her mother had brought them home after her shift.

There was another series of knocks and Hermione could hear a quiet huff. So whoever was there was impatient. She could hear the distinct tapping of someone’s boot and it made Hermione snicker. She wanted to stay in her seat and wait it out. How long would this person wait, she wondered. She looked back up to the clock noting that it had been five minutes.

_What if its important?_

Maybe there was an emergency. Or an accident. Maybe something happened to her mum. Biting her lip, she pushed the table away from herself, stumbled through her living room into the entrance hall, and quietly ran to the door. The tapping was louder and she could hear muttering.

Hermione took a deep breath and hoped that it was just a solicitor that she could send on their way. She pulled the door open a crack and peered out the small sliver to see a tall man with shoulder length black hair - that looked to haven’t been washed in at least a week - and a large hooked nose, glaring at the door. 

“Miss Granger, I presume?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione let out the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. She stared at the raised eyebrow - how did he do that?

“May I come in?”

“No,” she stated loudly and slammed the door shut. She turned around so that her back rested against the door and took several deep breaths, trying to calm down. There was a weird man outside her home and she was all alone. 

Once her heartbeat slowed back to normal, she realised the man was still on the other side of the door. This time mumbling curses that didn’t appeal to Hermione’s sensibilities (had she said any of those in front of her mother, her mouth would be washed, in front of her grandmother and she’d get a good swat on the bum). 

However, her curiosity was peaked and her mother always said that it would be her downfall.

She looked back through the door that lead to the living room. A few of her textbooks had fallen to the floor. She frowned. That wouldn’t do. She would need to clear that up first, but she had finished the majority of her revision. And it was her birthday, after all. She could start her adventure early. Her morning plans would have to change, but it would be more fun to have a real live villain for once.

**HGatGG**

Hermione was on the garden level and rummaging through the dress-up box in the guest room cupboard. She knew the strange man was still on her doorstep (having heard his continued use of bad words as she went down the stairs) but she didn’t know for how long, so she had to be quick about it. She threw one or two outfits from the top (a princess gown from her last adventure and the top to her Robin Hood costume), eventually finding what she was looking for. When she found it, she tumbled backwards onto her bum but still managed a quiet scream of “Eureka!”

She threw the undesirables back into the box and wrapped herself in the black cloak and tied the black Zorro mask onto her face. She wished she had enough time to run upstairs to her bathroom to get a hair tie, but her riotous hair would have to remain free. Time was of the essence. 

She tread carefully through the hallway into their garage, using the side door to make way up their driveway. When she got closer to the main road, she began to tiptoe, crouching so that the extensive landscaping would hide her. She realised the greenery wouldn’t really keep her black outfit inconspicuous and vowed to ask for an outfit of camouflage for Christmas that year. It would be useful for sneaky adventures.

Once she reached the walkway that lead to their front door, she hid behind her mother’s prize winning PeeGee Hydrangea bush - her mother was sort of a green thumb, and had other prize winning plants, but the hydrangeas were a favourite and had the star spot in front of the house. She glimpsed through the leaves and saw that the man was still there. She looked down at her bare feet - in her rush she had forgotten shoes - noting they were surprisingly clean because the sun managed to come out early (her morning wish coming true!) enough to dry out the cobbled pathway. She squinted her eyes in quick calculation and decided to just go with it.

She ran as quickly and quietly as she could until she stood directly behind him. He was still knocking on the door when Hermione shouted, “Why are you still here?”

He quickly spun around and his arm shot out, a wooden stick pointing at Hermione face. She stared at it, making her eyes go cross, and herself dizzy. “Why do you have a stick?” she asked, looking into his face, fixing her sight.

The man rolled his eyes but lowered his arm, pocketing the stick. “That’s part of the reason why I am here,” he drawled.

Hermione looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate.

“May we go inside?”

“I already told you no,” she answered, putting a hand to her hip, dipping her head to the side. Her mother did this pose when waiting for an answer and Hermione hoped it would work if she did it to. She really wanted to know the purpose of the stick; the way the man handled it while putting it away was far more care than any normal person would handle a piece of wood.

“And why not?” he asked, crossing his arms across his black covered chest.

Hermione wondered if this man knew of any colour other than black. His chest was covered in black. His legs were covered in black. She bet he didn’t own anything in a single colour other than black (arguably, no colour whatsoever if he only owned black, but Hermione didn’t really want to get into that). She thought he would look quite silly in pink, but a dark purple would look good with his complexion yet still maybe fit his sensibilities. maybe. Next thing she knew, the man was dressed in a royal purple frock and she gasped.

He looked down and frowned. He pulled out his wand, waved it, and the robes were back to their original state.

“How did you do that? Tell me, please!” Hermione demanded, trying to keep herself from jumping up and down. She had made random things happen on occasion before, but had never seen anyone remedy it so quickly.

“Again, part of the reason why I’m here,” he intoned, raising a brow at her.

“I’m not allowed to let strangers inside.” She bit her lip once more, unhappy with how the adventure was turning out. Hermione always followed the rules, she prided herself on that, but she really wanted to learn more about the man and even more, about the stick. Fortunately, having always followed the rules but spending the last several years learning what loopholes were - she was her mother’s daughter after all - as an idea struck her. 

“However,’ smiling, she quickly replied, shouting over her shoulder as she spun around and ran back the way she had came, “Follow me.”


	2. Sneaky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Note: Used the prompt Sneaky and Slytherin for this, more the former than the latter.
> 
> Edit, 22 Feb 2014: I’m slowing going through this story making edits (mostly SpaG) but adding bits and pieces, changing things as needed, blah blah. Once I catch up (in the coming days), I’ll hopefully get the next chapter up.
> 
> Edit, 21 Mar 2014: Oops. I started editing the next chapter but then I messed up with the whole Terminator movie. It came out in 1991. But Hermione turned 11 in 1990. And I’m OCD enough to really be bothered by that fact. So I went through this chapter again to fix that and add a little more details. I’ll try and have the next chapter fix up this weekend. But my brain has been held hostage by another plot bunny so I make no promises.

**HGatGG**

Hermione knew that her mother would be angry with her when she got home. Yes, she technically did not let a stranger inside, but working with a loophole or no, she still went against the _spirit_ of the rule. Which was ridiculous and only something new that her mother had started to lecture her on. But no matter, the “spirit” rule was fairly new (like less than a month), and it _was_ Hermione’s birthday, after all.

Hopefully all would be well. And maybe, she wouldn’t be punished. She was sure of it. Probably.

She had left the weird man in the garden while she went inside to return her costume (if she kept the play/guest room clean, it would make the eventual trouble less, she crossed her fingers) and grab her books from the living room. She knew that if she didn’t complete her revision when her mother returned, it wouldn’t matter what loopholes Hermione could find, she’d be in big trouble.

Holding her workbook and a reference book close to her chest, she stepped out onto the garden through the hallway. 

“What do you have there?” The dour man drawled. He was standing in the middle of the yard, critically scanning the surroundings.

“My studies. I am almost done, so let me finish my assignment and then you can explain yourself.” Hermione dismissively responded. She walked to where he stood in the middle of the garden and sat down on the grass. With her legs crossed, workbook in her lap, she hunched over and began working on the last four problems for maths.

It was difficult for Hermione to focus on her arithmetic. The man hadn’t budged and was standing there, looking down his nose at her. She eyed his pocket where he had placed his wand. Did every magician have a wand? Or were they person specific? If she grabbed it, would it work for her? What kinds of... spells could one cast? Could you only change the specific parameters of something that existed? Could you make something appear out of thin air? 

“I don’t think you’ll get much revision done if you keep thinking about magic.” He sighed, finally seating himself across from her. 

“You’re right.” She nodded, closing her workbook using her biro as a bookmark. “Now, talk.”

The man rolled his eyes, but began speaking nevertheless. “I am Professor Snape, the potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You, Miss Granger, have been invited to attend.” He pulled out a tarnished looking envelope and handed it to her.

Hermione’s eyes bulged and her jaw dropped. This was positively unreal. A school to study magic? And _she_ was invited? Ha! Take _that_ Elizabeth! Hermione just _knew_ that the snobby brat in her class wouldn’t be following her to this new school. And that was going to be _wonderful_!

She grabbed the thick envelope from the professor, flipping it over and tracing the red wax seal that held it closed. Bringing it closer to her face so that she could admire the design, she tried to make out what it was. The wax was imprinted with a somewhat small sigil. She could only really tell that it was made up of four quadrants. Giving up, she mouthed the words, then read it out loud, “Hogwarts,” was written rather larger above the sigil, and just below the four quadrants was written, in smaller text: “Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus.”

“Don’t... something... a sleeping dragon?” She glanced back the professor, wanting to know what the one word meant. She had only been studying Latin for the past year and a half, so it was exciting when the opportunity to use her knowledge, and add to it, even, was always worth it. Especially adding to it. Her mother would be proud.

“Tickle,” he replied. He raised an eyebrow at her waiting for the scoff at the slogan. Hermione avowed to learn how to make the same gesture.

“Don’t tickle the sleeping dragon,” she whispered, committing it to memory. Her new professor watched her closely as her eyes brightened. “Are dragons real, too?”

He nodded.

“And unicorns? Fairies? Elves? Centaurs?” Hermione started counting down all the mythical creatures she could think of on each of her fingers. “Mermaids? Vampires? Were-”

“Yes, yes, they’re all real.” He interrupted.

Hermione was too excited to pout. One, she was used to being interrupted when she unknowingly showed off her knowledge. Two, and more importantly, all those things were real!

She wouldn’t have to pretend to have adventures anymore. She took a deep breath to calm herself down. He was her professor and her mother always taught her to mind her elders. Plus, it wouldn’t be wise to show off how excited she was about all this. All her classmates and neighbors thought her weird for her exuberance; it wouldn’t do if she somehow unknowingly offended or convinced her new professor she was insufferable.

“Great,” she said with an even tone, attempting to hide her giddiness. “So when do I go to this school? Won’t I need magical things?” She knew there were more questions she should be asking, but she also knew that it would be better to just let him explain as much as possible. More than likely, her questions would be answered before she could even voice them. She folded her hands together into her lap, leaned forward slightly, and waited for a response.

“Well, Miss Granger. The first of September after your birthday.”

Hermione gaped. She would have to wait _a whole year_ to learn magic. No. That just wouldn’t do. At all.

There was no way she could go back to pretending all those things didn’t exist. Her play adventures would be meaningless. She shook her head, there had to be way to at least get more information. Learn something. A whole year. That was preposterous.

“What can I do in the meantime to...” she paused to ponder the best way to get something out of him, “ease my transition into this school?” Hermione asked. She needed to know as much as possible before jumping to any decisions. Her mother always taught her that, and she was nothing if not her mother’s daughter. Plus, if she could practice magic before school, even better.

“Well,” Professor Snape pursed his lips. 

Hermione accusingly squinted her eyes; she would not have it, if he withheld information from her. Or prevented her from furthering her advent- no, _education_.

“This,” he gestured around them, “is what we consider the Muggle world. There are little communities and places throughout the UK that normal Muggles cannot see. Those are all a part of the Wizarding world. Granted, some wizards do live near Muggles and also have businesses in the Muggle World. But for the most part, the Wizarding World is exclusive to Muggles.”

Hermione tried to think if there would be any place near their home in Bath that could be considered not part of the Muggle world. “The Stonehenge. You can feel it and I know I saw something there,” she pouted. “All my classmates tried to pass it off as me trying to get attention.”

_A nine year-old Hermione kept staring off in the distance, past the standing stones. There was something - several small blue beings, perhaps? - just there, milling about, not being bothersome, but floating from the ground and such. She wanted to figure out what it was._

_Before she could step any closer, her teacher called her back to the group. In her musing, she had separated from her classmates. Looking back to where she had been staring, she noticed the blue beings were gone._

_“Imagining you have friends, Granger?” The children mocked as she rushed back to the class._

Her lip quivered at the memory but she forced her tears to stay at bay. She would not cry in front of this man. Or any man in fact. There was no reason to cry. Not anymore. And the joke was on them, anyway. She was _special_. She reminded herself of this fact and bucked up, putting on her stoic face on. “Please continue.”

**HGatGG**

Severus was impressed by the young girl. After her memory of being bullied, she had calmed herself admirably. He had explained Diagon Alley (its in the middle of London, where you will go to get your supplies. And yes, there’s a bookstore), Hogsmeade (the small village near Hogwarts. No, you don’t get to really visit it until your third year), the Hogwarts Castle itself (yes, its an actual castle), Houses (its your family at school), and school subjects (they’re nothing like what you would learn at a Muggle Secondary School, and no, we don’t offer any of those classes either).

The girl asked for a demonstration of each of the main subjects before deciding she would really enjoy Arithmancy. Of course, she was put out upon learning that she would have to wait until third year to actually partake in the subject, but a quick mention that she could always read ahead brought a smile back to her face. Not that he cared, of course.

She asked him to explain how a student was sorted and became fascinated with the idea of the Sorting Hat. After a lengthy discussion on the characteristics of each House, she had decided she would do best in Ravenclaw. She wanted to be in Slytherin - which made Severus quite content, if he was honest with himself - but when he explained the views on blood purity in the Wizarding World, and in particular with most Slytherins, she opted that Ravenclaw would perhaps be safer but still allow for her personality to shine through. Apparently, the girl decided she could still be ambitious on her quest for knowledge. Which was really what mattered most to her. So Ravenclaw, really would be best. He couldn’t help but agree.

She asked intelligent questions, looked at every angle, then surmised an opinion. As she reread her acceptance letter and reviewed the shopping list, he looked through her maths workbook. He could find no flaws in the equations she had written to explain her answers. She was thorough in her explanations both in the workbook and during their conversation. Plus, she had a basic grasp of latin, if her understanding and translating most of the school slogan earlier was anything to go by. 

For an eleven year-old, she was quite the child. He found her amusing, to say the least. He also mentally smirked at how she got around her mother’s rules. Exploiting loopholes. Too bad the girl was a Muggle. He would have appreciated having her in his House. She would have made a good addition to Slytherin.

At one point she went inside to grab some tea. She had come back with a blanket and a full tea set. He watched as she expertly served him and then herself. Most pure-bloods couldn’t serve tea as well. Lastly, she pulled some packets of biscuits from her pockets to share.

The pair continued their conversation about magic versus Muggle, and it was interesting to hear her fresh perspective. She had questioned things that he had never really thought about, or had forgotten to. Like when he had transfigured a broken tree branch into a large sun umbrella. She was amazed at the transformation but then said _“One shouldn’t become lazy because they have magic to aid them. I could very well have gone into the garage and retrieved us one.”_

He wanted to balk at that, but it was true. After awhile (a couple hours later, really), she became bored and decided she had enough distraction from her studies. It was also a quarter after two and apparently her mother was due to arrive soon. As she continued with her revision, their conversation turned towards the girl herself, in particular her birthday plans.

“Oh, my mum will be making my favourites for dinner, and we’ll probably go out to the cinema to see the new Die Hard film.” 

Assuming the look that he gave her was sceptical - it was not, Severus hadn’t realised a sequel had came out - she continued, “I know it’s a bit late, having come out in July, but it has taken me this long to convince mum that I’ll be able to handle any violence and the such.”

Shaking his head, he let her prattle on about the recent films she had seen and how science fiction and fantasy were her absolute favourites. “And to find out that some of what I’ve read is actually, real. It’s all very wonderful, sir.” He was amused to note how she barely managed to contain a squeal at the statement.

Severus figured he could admire the parents of such a girl. Hermione Granger reminded him of himself at the age, minus the parental abuse, of course. This girl didn’t seem to know what a harsh hand was. She was hardworking and studios, and loved her mother very much. However, unlike him, it didn’t seem she had any friends to speak of though. It was the girl’s birthday and all she had to look forward to was some time with her mum. 

A part of him felt sad for the girl. At least he had Lily when he was that age. He had a best friend to turn to when things got bad. He could always count on -

“Hermione, what are you doing out here? Who is this man?” A petite woman dressed in purple scrubs - at least he assumed that was what they were called, they reminded him of the Mediwitch and Healer robes of St. Mungo’s - with riotous sandy blonde curls that could rival Hermione’s had stepped out from a sliding door from the home.

Hermione closed her workbook and jumped up from her spot. Plastering the largest smile on her face before turning to look at their intruder, she casually introduced him. “Hello mum! This is Professor Snape. He’s here to speak to us about my choice of secondary schools next year.” 

Standing up, he stepped forward to the woman with his arms outstretched to show that he meant no harm. When he stood just in front of her, she barely reached the tip of his nose. He noticed she had the same honey coloured eyes as her daughter as well.

“Pleasure to meet you, Professor Snape. I am Hermione’s mother, Romy Wolfe.” She stretched her well manicured, but callused hand forward for him to shake.

Severus had to remind himself to temper his questioning gaze. Her last name was Wolfe. As casually as possible, he glanced at her left hand and noted that there was no ring there - let alone a tan line signifying there had been one for a lengthy period of time. That made things a little more interesting to say the least. 

Not that it mattered, though.

“Please. Call me Severus,” he drawled, taking her proffered hand and raising it to his lips for a subtle kiss to her knuckles. It was just the standard protocol for a wizard when first meeting a lady, or so he told himself.

He smirked as he listened to Hermione giggle into her hand. When he looked at Romy, she was flushed from the root of her hairs to the little bit of collarbone that peaked from her shirt.

“Well, Severus, please join us inside. I will have to get started on Hermione’s birthday dinner, but you can talk to me about this school during.”

**HGatGG**

Hermione was sitting on the bench against the wall in their breakfast room again. Professor Snape sat across from her, but with his chair angled so that he could speak with her but still see into the kitchen where her mother was making them dinner.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Hermione grinned, “but he has an explanation for all the weird things that has happened around me. And maybe even you, as well!” She was excited. All day she was trying to not think about it but to finally get to share something this monumental with her mother, she could fly at the thought. _Could witches and wizards fly,_ she wondered. Her eyes widened at the thought, the possibilities were simply endless and she was excited to get to explore this new world. First on the agenda was to get to Diagon Alley and purchase some books. She was not going to let the fact that she grew up a Muggle hinder her progress at school the following year. No, siree.


	3. Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s Note:** This chapter isn’t as long as I would have liked, but it does move the story along a little bit. I used the prompt mirror for this. I’ll have the next chapter up sometime next week. And please review, it means alot to me._
> 
> _**Edit, 12 May 2014: Oops. I got bit by another plot bunny that I’m not going to post at all until its finished, but I started to write it since this story gave me a slight headache. As I said, oops on starting something new. I’m sorry. Anyways, here’s another edit, I’ve made some SpaG changes and added some more details to make the story fit more with what I have planned in future chapters and installments. Yipee.** _

**HGatGG**

Hermione was sitting on top of her mother’s bed, the gray and green duvet completely covered by school books spread around her. She fidgeted in her place, pretending to be reading. She would much rather be reading the leather-bound tome that rested on her mother’s bureau.

All of her assignments had been completed before she had even left class, but her mother insisted that she spend some time studying. Especially since their Saturday was going to be spent in Diagon Alley. 

When Professor Snape had left their home after her birthday dinner, he had offered to escort them. Hermione, shamefully, couldn’t hold back her glee and had hugged the dour man. Her mother giggled at the look he had given, and had to hunch over and guffaw when all he had done was pat Hermione on the head. 

Hermione smiled at the memory. She grinned even more when she recalled sitting on the stairwell while her mother walked the professor out. Hermione noticed how her mother was blushing through most of dinner and the professor would steal glances every so often. She wasn’t surprised at all when he had asked her mother to dinner for the following Friday.

So of course she was excited for the week to end! She had finished her schoolwork in record time (which was already a record to begin with), and she didn’t let any of the taunts affect her as they normally would have. _She was a witch. She was special,_ and would be going away in a year, so what they said did not matter. 

And her mother wanted her to sit and focus on her maths. She sighed in frustration. Maths was _boring_.

Flipping a page, Hermione pouted and leaned forward on the bed to see into the crack of her mother’s bathroom door. Her mum raised an eyebrow and smirked at her, so Hermione leaned back on the bed. She’d just have to wait until she was alone to read the interesting book. Professor Snape said she could consider it a birthday gift, so it was technically hers. Her mother didn’t have a right to keep it away from her. It’s not like she would let reading a fascinating book affect her studies. She ensured she completed all assignments in class so she wouldn’t have homework, and during recess, when she couldn’t have the book, she had studied.

So why did she have to revise again now?

“Stop your pouting and help me find something to wear,” her mother chided, stepping out of the bathroom dressed in a bathrobe.

The way her mother fiddled with the edges of her robe clued Hermione into how nervous her mum must truly be. She smiled back at her and hopped off the bed, delighted with the distraction. “Okay!” 

She walked over to the cupboard at the right of the bed and near the door to the room and threw the wardrobe open. She fingered each of the dresses until her eyes grew large at a silky emerald dress hidden behind the more sensible clothing. “I think you should wear this one, mum.”

Her mother pulled the dress from the closet and held it against her body, examining herself in the full length mirror behind the bedroom door. “Don’t you think it’s a little much, darling?”

“No.”

“It’s quite form-fitting. I don’t think it appropriate for a dinner with your professor.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. Her mother always did this. If a bloke asked her out, she would fidget and moan and talk herself out of it. Granted, it had only happened a handful of times, but every time, her mother would end the date before it even began.

Well, not this time! With a will of steel, she would convince her mother that Professor Snape was worth it. The afternoon they had spent together proved him to be a smart and considerate man. And Hermione knew her mother was lonely but feared how her potential boyfriend would fair with her daughter. Well, Hermione had liked Professor Snape and that was that.

“No, mum. Tomorrow he is taking us out in the capacity as my future professor. Tonight, he asked _you to dinner because he found _you_ intriguing. Put on the dress, mum.” Hermione stood akimbo, hands on her hips and gave her mother the look that meant business. Her mother had used the very look earlier to force Hermione to revise._

_When her mother nodded and walked into the bathroom to get dressed, Hermione giggled. She finally got to use the do-as-I-say-or-else look on her mother._

_Just another thing to thank her professor for. Now, for the book._

__

**HGatGG**

Severus had heard the talk going around the school. Everyone thought a seventh year had managed to slip a potion into his drink. Ha! He was a Potions Master, he would have noticed such an occurrence and the mongrel who thought he - or they, as it would more than likely be those blasted Weasley twins - could get away with it would be sorely mistaken.

But even the rumours couldn’t sour his good mood. He wasn’t smiling -like he would grace the dunderheads of Hogwarts with that sight - but he didn’t dock any points from Gryffindor, which in retrospect, was very likely the reason for the gossip being spread.

Drinking his evening tea, he sat in his usual seat at the far right of the professor table. He focused on the delicious tea that he could only get at Hogwarts. No where else could ever really manage to make a cuppa quite so well.

Taking another sip, he considered his weekend plans. As an assigned Guide, he was going above and beyond with his duties. He looked to the left and saw the twinkle in the Headmaster’s eye and knew that the meddlesome fool must have been the one to assign him to Hermione Granger on purpose. Severus would of course continue to bemoan the added responsibility, but deep down, he would be more than happy to spend more time with his charge - and her lovely mother, Romy Wolfe. The thought of what the night could bring made it difficult for him to hold back a smile.

“What has you in such a good mood?” Silvanus Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, asked. He was seated to the right of Severus, but faced inward as the two were at the corner end of the dias. The man was wearing his typical wizarding hat and was focused on cutting up his meal, but he still eyed Severus wearily. Everyone knew when Severus was smiling, someone had done something to constitute a terrible detention.

Severus ignored the question and focused on finishing his tea.

“Shouldn’t you eat something? It is dinner time,” Caden McCaig, this year’s Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, queried. Severus raised an eyebrow at the man, not bothering to exchange any friendly pleasantries with a teacher who would undoubtedly not be returning the following year.

“He’s having dinner outside of the castle this evening,” Aurora Sinistra, a young woman who graduated a few years ahead of him and the Astronomy professor who sat on the other side of Caden responded with a sneer. She seemed to be extra interested and Severus scowled into his teacup. Minerva had been trying to matchmake the pair a few years ago until Severus finally had enough and told both women that it would never happen. It seemed that his colleague did not receive the message.

Filius and Minerva, who were seated to Aurora’s left also seemed interested in learning more about Severus’s evening plans. He wondered how everyone seemed to know that he would be leaving the castle that Friday night. The twinkle in the headmaster’s eye gave him the answer he already knew. 

Severus harrumphed and stood from the professor’s table. He glared at all the students in the Great Hall who were watching him carefully. Then glanced at his colleagues before calling out a stern “I’m off.” He walked out of the room, robes billowing behind him.

He ignored everyone as he considered what sort of Muggle attire he would need to impress his date.

**HGatGG**

“Really, why is he so excited?” Filius asked the table at large. He, like everyone, turned to the center of the table to look at the headmaster, waiting for an answer.

“It appears, that our dear Severus, has found himself on a date,” Albus Dumbledore replied honestly, hiding a smile behind his goblet.

The shocked gasp of several of the teachers and the screech leaving Sibyll Trelawney’s mouth as she fainted drew the entire school’s attention. 

The headmaster maintained his cheeky smile and continued with his dinner, acting as if nothing was out of ordinary.

**HGatGG**

Severus was dressed in a dapper three piece Muggle suit. He was once again standing on the stoop of the Granger/Wolfe residence. Unsure of himself, he pondered that. Was it just Wolfe since it was under Miss Granger’s mother’s name? But he knew it as Miss Granger’s home, so?

Needless to say, the man was nervous.

He was trying to think of what sort of flowers to Conjure but he had absolutely no idea. From what the young girl had told him, her mother had a green thumb, so not any old silly flowers would do. Roses were too cliche, and the woman already had prize hydrangeas in their garden. He continued pacing muttering about the different types of flowers and if she would be offended if he offered her some from the Wizarding world.

“You’re just as bad as my mum. Honestly!” He heard a harrumph from where the closed door should have been. Instead, it was open, and the bushy-haired pajama clad Hermione Granger stood in its threshold. “You look nice,” she stepped back and opened the door further to welcome him inside.

Severus walked through the door into the entrance hall of their home and waited. He thought how awkward it would be to ask a future student if flowers would be a good idea when taking their mother out. 

“Wildflowers, my mother adores them. Every colour, if possible,” Hermione assisted him before he could decide he rather he the humiliation over with.

With a sigh of relief, he pulled out his wand and Conjured a bouquet made up of white, yellow, orange, and purple wildflowers. He held the flowers to the young girl and arched his brow, awaiting approval.

She nodded before running up the stairs. He chuckled to himself when he eyed her bunny-slippered feet. He stood watching the stairwell, waiting for his date. When Miss Granger returned with a large smile, she immediately began to question him. “Where are you taking her?”

“The Cavendish,” he responded.

“The one connected to Duke’s Hotel?” She asked, seating herself at the foot of the stairs.

Severus started, he didn’t realise the restaurant was connected to a hotel. He had asked one of his associates from outside of school, one who lived a few towns over, what would an appropriate place be to take a woman out for a meal would be. After the initial shock of Severus going on a date - with a Muggle woman no less - his friend gave him the name of an upscale restaurant that served the best of British fare. “Do you think it too presumptuous?”

“Well, only if you don’t bring my mum home after dinner. A walk through the Sydney Gardens is one thing, but taking her up to a room after dinner on the first date is not a good idea.” She said all this with a straight face and Severus wasn’t sure if he should laugh out loud or take what she said to heart. Should an eleven-year-old truly understand what spending the night at a hotel implied?

“Listen, Professor Snape,” she spoke in a wary tone, but let honesty shine through her eyes. The girl's eyes were quite expressive and captivated him much in the way her mother's did on his previous visit. “My mother hasn’t been on a date since before I was born. She has been really excited about this, so keep that in mind while you’re out with her, please.”

He nodded his head, understanding the severity of the situation. He should have known a single mother wouldn’t get out much. He almost let it slip that he too hadn’t been on a date since he was in Hogwarts, a few years longer than the girl had been alive. However, he was still Severus Snape, and that was a bit too honest, and a lot too soon. 

Before she could continue with the pre-date lecture, they heard footsteps coming down the staircase. Hermione jumped up from her seat, and Severus eyes bulged at the sight of the beautiful Romy Wolfe. The green dress hugged her body before flaring at the knee. She had a silver shawl wrapped around her bare shoulders and Severus thought the woman looked divine in Slytherin colours. 

When she reached the bottom step, he handed her the wildflower bouquet. The woman smiled brightly and Severus looked over her shoulder to Hermione who winked at him. 

Romy took the bouquet and smelled the flowers closely. Before she left to find a vase, he whispered, “You look beautiful,” not fully comfortable with complimenting the woman, especially in front of her daughter. 

The last woman he had ever felt anything for left him, and was gone forever. He started to second-guess himself, why was he taking out this woman? He had only met her earlier that week. What made her so special? Why would she even consider going out with him? Maybe it would be best if he left before she came back. But that wouldn’t do because he had to meet with them tomorrow to go to Diagon Alley.

“Don’t you do it too,” Hermione groaned, slapping her palm to her forehead. “You two are both smart adults who enjoyed an afternoon together. Tonight, you’re going to explore that further and see if there is something more. Stop over-thinking.” She pulled her curls in frustration before muttering, “Adults are stupid.”

He scoffed, but let it slide. Romy walked out of the kitchen and kissed her daughter in the middle of the red mark on her forehead before taking him by the arm and stepping out of the house. “Where to, and how are we getting there?”

He smirked, “The Cavendish, and magic.”


End file.
